The Pursuit of Happiness
by The Head Gamemaker
Summary: Living in District 1, every resident gets their taste of Luxury in one way or another. But for some people it's not enough to make these items of beauty for the Capitol, they need to have them for themselves. Which is why District 1 has such a high volunteer rate, these teens are willing to die in pursuit of the lux lifestyle, although the Games aren't the only to get what you want


**Hi there, so this is based off the ****_The Bling Ring_**** which is about a group of insane Hollywood kids who wanted to be rich and famous, so they decided to steal from famous people. I thought that it could would fit into the the Hunger Games Universe well, especially with District 1's residents who I feel have always been ambitious and had particular lust for fame and wealth. ****I may continue with the story as inspiration and time permit... Well I hope you kind of enjoy. **(Whoa! some people actually reviewed!)

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Cashmere has been the notorious party girl of District 1 ever since she garnered the title of Victor of the 63rd Hunger Games. The blonde beauty has continued to do very well financially after her win. The brand she launched in after her victory in the 63rd Hunger Games now encompassed television, movies, music, clothing, books, jewelry, fragrances, handbags, pet apparel, wigs and hair extensions. Cashmere, still just 25, was "Living Luxuriously" as she liked to say. Securing herself a large, five-bedroom, Mediterranean-style mansion in District 1's prestigious Victors' Village.

One balmy summer night, two teenagers drove along the streets of Prodigal, the wealthiest area of the District, toward Cashmere's home with the intention of robbing it. They were a boy and a girl, 18 and 17, who lived not far away in Couture, an affluent suburb in District 1. The boy, Ruche Bolton, was slight of build, with sharp, fox-like features and an anxious, flashing smile, was dressed in all black. The girl with him in the car that night, Maven Rollins, was blonde-haired and slender with a baby face that masked her heartless core. As always, Maven, who had been voted "Best Dressed" in their high school, twice, was styled to perfection in casual burglar chic (hoodie, scarf, designer T-shirt, jeans). Maven was obsessed with fashion. Which is the reason Ruche and Maven set out that night to Cashmere's mansion, Maven wanted the fabulous lifestyle that Cashmere had, as majority of the residents do in the luxury District, being so manufacturing the goodies for the capitol but never having them, this was the only way for Maven to get what she needed, to take it.

The friends didn't say much as they traveled along the curving mountain road toward their target's home. Though in the planning process, they had been intense and talkative, figuring out how they were going to gain access to a gated community with a number of guards. Ruche had scoped out the property, and they knew much about the celebrity's home from the various articles, home renovating shows and interviews that had been done at the residence since her victory in the Games.

When Ruche checked out the aerial shots of the Victors' Village, he noticed an area in the back that looked accessible via a steep hill. Maven was very pleased in his findings, and that pleased him; Ruche liked to please Maven. He felt a thrill as they hurtled toward this strange adventure together. Though the idea of getting caught had him both deeply excited, he was nervous, Maven on the other hand was very calm, and that seemed to reassure Ruche that they could do this. He tried to keep his mind on the music playing in the background by some Capitol Pop Idol on the car radio as they zoomed along through the dark empty streets of Prodigal, most people had returned home as it was becoming close to the Capitol instated curfew. The current song playing always made him think of Maven - called 'Anything for You.' It was about a man who would do anything for the woman he loves.

Around midnight, they arrived at Victory Estates and Ruche parked his small, green car at the back a small follower shop, near the entrance to the Victors' Village. Quietly they found the hill they were looking, Maven wasn't too pleased at this aspect of the adventure, but they climbed it none the less, using vines to help them from falling back. They could hear each other panting with the effort. They weren't athletic kids like most of the Hunger Games enthusiasts in their District, who spend majority of their spare time working out – in contrast they smoked cigarettes and weed, and did their fair share of partying in their spare time. At the top of the hill they passed through some heavy brush and crawled under a fence to the main street.

Once inside the gated community, they strolled hand in hand down the street, past the glamorous castle-like mansions and gleaming luxury cars. Maven giggled and planted a kiss on Ruche's cheek as a car went by. They were now confident, if anyone spotted them, they wouldn't be thought out of place now. They looked like normal kids; he might be some just Victor's relative and Maven could pass being his girlfriend or something. That's the thing that really made everything flow when Ruche and Maven would go out and do these types of things. They wouldn't be conspicuous, not masked or in gloves. Looking nature, as they strolled through the manicured street as if they belonged.

As they came near Cashmere's home at the end of the street, Ruche tried to remember the exact moment when he and Maven decided to try burglarizing the homes of the District 1 elite; once they did, they knew right away that Cashmere would be the perfect first victim. It was Maven's Idea, and what Ruche figured, was that Cashmere was probably dumbest of the Victors. Like, who would leave a door or window unlocked? Who would have a lot of money lying around? Logically if they were going to do something to a Victor, it would be one that wasn't known for being bright.

And then suddenly there was Cashmere's house, rising before them like the shining diamond in the night, all glowing yellow stone and Mediterranean tile. Ruche's heart started to rush, he tried to stay calm as he followed Maven across the driveway, past the fountain, to the front door. Their plan – well, not really a plan, it was more of an impulse, for as often as they had imagined this night, they had actually decided to just go and do it spontaneously, after having a few drinks – their plan was just to ring the bell and see if anybody answered. And if somebody did, well, then, they might get to see Cashmere. And that would be awesome, in a way, getting to meet a Victor up close and personal. They would pretend they were just a couple of her fans or ditzy kids with the wrong address, kids out looking for a party, which one always seemed to be happening in the Victors' Village, it would be a believable enough cover. And what's the worse that could happen, really?

Maven rang the bell, putting on that innocent face Ruche had seen her wear so many times before. Maven was good at playing the pretty girl whenever adults were around asking questions. She knew she was a good-looking girl and she knew there were certain things she could get away with. She knew how the system worked and she knew how to play it.

She rang and rang again… but still there was no answer. There were hardly any lights on inside. They wondered if Cashmere was in, or out? Promoting her new handbag line at some somewhere? Attending a Capitol billionaire's birthday party in the Capitol (for a fee, of course)? She had been spending a great deal of time in the Capitol since her victory, they just can't seem to get enough of her over there, so that was probably a safe bet. Maven had been tracking Cashmere's whereabouts through the various celebrity news outlets, thankfully the capitol loves knowing everything about the past Victors, but she wasn't actually sure where she was that night…

Ruche began to get anxious, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the darkly dressed teens standing in front of the Victor's home in the middle of the night. But thankfully the large fountain stood between them and the street so they had a decent amount of cover.

Ding-dong. Maven gave one last ring of the doorbell for good measure.

_Were they really going to do this thing?_ Ruche thought to himself. _Or were they just going to go home with a funny story to tell the rest of their friends?_ Ruche was racking his brain as he looked at Maven for confirmation on what they were going to do, it's not like the door was unlocked and they could just walk in like he had hoped.

It was then that it occurred to Ruche to just to look around for a spare key. And sure enough the glinting metal of the key appeared underneath the mat. He stared in disbelief, she really is as dumb as the both of them had thought. It's a wonder she survived the Games.

With a turn of the key they entered the home, there was no going back now.

"Whoa!" the two said as they gazed at the spender of the home. They had seen it before, of course, but it was nothing like actually being there in person.

Inside it was like dollhouse. There were images of Cashmere everywhere, framed photographs of Cashmere on the walls, action shots from her year's Games, and painted portraits of her; framed magazine covers which documented her win, and cover stories on her life after victory; framed pictures on tables of Cashmere with all her famous friends - there was one of her with Gloss, her hansom Victor brother, ones with various Capitol socialites and business tycoons, even some with Victors of neighboring districts, like the heartthrob, Finnick Odair from District 4 and the Victor who proceeded her, Enobaria from District 2. The two thieves wondered if she was close with the other Victors. There were pictures of Cashmere in the bathrooms. Her face was silkscreened on couch pillows. It was excessive, it was Cashmere.

There were a lot of Lavender and Lilac accents in the mainly white home, and there were crystal chandeliers in almost every room. Even the kitchen. It was like stepping into a dream, the girliest dream you could imagine. Ruche walked around slowly, as to not make too much noise, marveling that they were really there. There was that percentage of wow, this is Cashmere's house that he felt, but as soon as he put my foot inside that door, he just wanting to get out as soon as he could. It had started to set in that breaking into the home of a woman who killed two people on national television wasn't the smartest plan on their part.

Ruche turned to Maven to tell her that they should leave, but before he could say anything Maven was already running up the stairs. Upstairs were the bedrooms, and the bedrooms had the closets, and the closets had the clothes. Ruche tremulously followed Maven down a hall of mirrors to the master bedroom. As he walked, his moving reflection in the mirrors only enhanced the feeling he'd be caught any second.

It was cold in Cashmere's room and smelled like the perfume one of the perfume factories in the District. The room led out on to a balcony overlooking the pool and, beyond that, the rolling hills of the District 1 Valley, filled shimmering with lights. As they gazed in the direction of their own homes from the vantage point, they couldn't help but laugh that they were actually here, they just broke into one of the most famous Victor's homes.

"Oh. My. God!" Maven squealed with delight when she got to the closets.

One of the closets was the size of a small room and the other the size of a small clothing store. The smaller of the closets had a chandelier, and larger one had furniture, as if Cashmere might want to just sit in there and bask in the glory of all her stuff. The smaller closet had floor-to-ceiling shelves with hundreds of pairs of shoes, all lined up like trophies. There were shoes of every color-satiny, shiny, pointy shoes.

The bigger closet was full of racks and racks of clothes. "Let's go shopping," Maven chimed with glee. Ruche gave a greedy smile in return as she set off into the closet.

Maven started playing dress up, putting dresses on over her clothes, accessorizing with gaudy jewelry, putting on Cashmere's perfumes and lipsticks. "How do I look?" she would giggle and give a twirl, not looking for an answer and continued her raid. While Ruche lounged on one of the chairs, just marveling at the excess of it all. Thinking to himself they picked the perfect victim, Cashmere would never miss a thing, with all this stuff she wouldn't even notice.

Maven continued, quickly began rummaging through everything, very, very into it, very focused, very 'This is my mission.' She was plowing through the racks of the wild, sparkly, feathery clothing, exclaiming over all the designers – yelling thing one thing or another was designed by so-and-so, and that the other was by some other big shot, Capitol designer! There were dresses, gowns, blouses, and coats… Maven recognized some of the pieces from Cashmere's public appearances; she followed these things; she knew which ones Cashmere had worn on certain stops during her Victory Tour and the one she wore in her latest interview as mentor.

"This is heaven." Maven said with a grin, looking back at Ruche whose nervousness had set in again.

"Well hurry up, we don't have all night." Ruche shot back at her, realizing that it was now close to 1:30 in the morning.

"Calm down crazy, nothing bad is going to happen. If you're so scared go be look out or something" She told him.

With that Ruche decided to go and position himself at the top of the stairs; from there, he could see through the big windows to the front of the house. He started sweating profusely and every couple of minutes he would yell down the hall, "Let's get the hell out of here! I want to leave! F this, I don't care anymore! Let's go, you've got enough!"

"It's fine, it's fine, it's fine, let's keep going… stop being such a little drama queen. You're stressing me out, this is supposed to be fun." She would respond and continue her rummaging.

Ruche resented the way that Maven was always in charge, no matter what they did – he hated it, but what could he do? This was the girl he loved, and he didn't want to lose her. Although he'd never tested it, there was something about Maven that screamed that if he didn't do what she wanted, she would walk without a second thought. It wasn't that he minded Maven taking a few of Cashmere's things – look at her house; she had everything. And besides it wasn't like Cashmere really deserved winning her Hunger Games, she wasn't some great Victor like some of the others in the District had, ones that won on skill and bravery, no she just won on her beauty and sponsors. She was an air-head, like the tabloids said. It wasn't like a malicious thing for Ruche, it's not like they were out to get, like, a working-class member of the district. They were taking from someone who wouldn't even care or notice anything was missing.

But still, no matter how many things Ruche could think of to justify their actions that night, he still did not want to get caught. Technically stealing is a crime punishable by death. He yelled again for Maven "hurry up and let's get out of here!"

"This is fine, this is okay, why are you tripping out? You're like having an aneurism out there or something, we're not going to get caught. I'm almost done, alright?" She answered.

Paranoia began to set in as he looked at his watch and saw that another thirty minutes had gone by, that's when he saw on the wall of the stairwell the portrait of Cashmere scowling down at him. She was wearing a purple cocktail dress and sitting on a settee with her legs folded underneath her, to her right with a bedazzled, battle axe dangling off on the side of the chair. She looked like a very displeased about something. She was staring… glaring, as if to say, "How dare you come in my house and touch my stuff, you little beyotch? I'm gonna get you for this. . ."

Ruche rushed back down the hall of mirrors toward Maven. She had selected a designer dress, some skirts, a pair of high heels, large sunglasses and a couple of Cashmere's bras. He again insisted that now it was time to leave – Maven finally agreed, but not before they checked inside Cashmere's purses. They knew from experience – for yes, they'd done this kind of thing before – that people with money tend to leave money lying around the house. And, sure enough, in the closet with the shoes and the sunglasses where Cashmere also kept her many bags they found crumpled up cash, fifties, hundreds, "Looks like she went shopping today too, and this was just her spare change." Maven said with delight.

Ruche would remember the smell of the expensive perfume, Maven _oohing_ and _aahing_ over the all the labels and outfits, and the crinkling sound of the bills. They came away with about $1,800 each – a good haul.

And now it really was time to go. But first Maven couldn't resist checking out the rest of the house. They wandered around the mansion, it was spooky, as if Cashmere were there somewhere, just watching them, waiting to pounce out from behind some furniture or the curtains. They knew that Cashmere could walk in at any time. They discovered the nightclub room with the disco ball, the wet bar and a pole in the center. They thought about all the famous people who had been in there – her brother Gloss, Chanpagne Bordeaux, Glitter Porter, Nicky Ore, Sterling Royce (Cashmere's current boyfriend), Diamond Forester… Maven couldn't help but imagine herself there again someday, chilling, dancing, with Cashmere.

Ruche grabbed a bottle of some expensive flavored vodka for himself, and they left into the night, feeling a sense of exhilaration at what they had just done gotten away with.

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**Well there you have it, my first story up on Fanfiction... You don't have to leave a real review if you don't want to, but a if you liked the story a ":)" would be appreciated, and the same goes for if you didn't like it, you can just leave a ":(".**


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